Of Leather Trousers and No Underwear
by kathrynw221291
Summary: Marcus Flint/Oliver Wood smut. accumulation of tensions and feelings. smutty yet fluffy at the same time. rated m because of sexytiems and leather trousers on sean biggerstaff  yum  x


**Of Leather Trousers and No Underwear**

**Marcus flint/Oliver wood**

**All credit to J K Rowling and the actors (especially sexy Scottish Sean Biggerstaff) for the characters**

**Smut, boy/boy getting it on, leather and nakedness and rimming …hence the M rating**

As the last of the Gryffindor Quidditch team had trudged back up the hill towards the castle, the pale boy who had been waiting in the stands moved towards his rival's changing room. He pushed the door open with a shaking hand and peered around, his eyes falling on his prey; one Oliver wood. He watched as the Scot drew new plays up onto the blackboard, his skin and clothes still dripping with rain. The dark stranger moved from the doorframe, closing the door silently as not to alert Oliver to his presence. His grey eyes roamed over the younger boy's body, taking in every plain and line and shadow and curve. He made an involuntary noise close to a groan at the back of his throat. The brunette Gryffindor whirled around at hearing the sound, staring the other boy down.

"Flint? Is that you?" Oliver asked, curious as to why the Slytherin was there in the changing room with him, just standing there, shivering slightly.

"Yeah, Wood, it's me. Why are you still here? Shouldn't you be going back up to the castle?" Marcus replied, his voice just above a whisper. Oliver raised a caramel eyebrow at him, advancing forwards a little.

"Why do you care? It's none of your business what I do." Oliver said back, looking over Marcus' form in what he hoped seemed casual and not-interested.

Of course, he _was_ interested in the Slytherin, from about fourth year when the older boy had stripped his shirt off in one of the summer games, Oliver (and his subsequently erect cock) had been rather aware of how hot Flint was. But it wasn't obvious beauty like Cedric pretty-boy Diggory, more subtle and hidden under the surface. Toned muscles and high cheek bones, dark what-he-hoped-was soft hair and emotive greyish-green eyes. He had had a lot of occasion to watch the Slytherin in his classes and Quidditch games. It became a sort of habit of his. Not that anyone else knew of course, it was his secret past time that he tried to keep as restrained and understated as possible.

"I do care, Wood. A lot more than you know. It's raining and freezing out here and I don't want you to be ill." Marcus responded, looking away from the brown-eyed boy as he said this.

"Because you wouldn't be able to get whipped at Quidditch if I was ill? That's why it matters to you, right?" Oliver said, trying to wrap his head around why the Slytherin was suddenly so concerned about him. Although he was starting to feel hopeful that the other boy did care for his welfare, and wanted him to be happy and warm and dry tucked up in his bed. Perhaps the Slytherin could snuggle up in his bed with him, and they could both be (innocently?) devoid of their clothes (to share body heat, of course)?

"No, not because of that. Because I want you. Now. And if you are ill then we couldn't do this." Marcus replied, taking a few strides until he was standing directly in front of the Gryffindor, their faces inches apart. Before Oliver could open his mouth to reply he felt the older boy's calloused hand run up over his shoulder and the long pale fingers slide into his brown hair, pulling his head down for a kiss.

It was a simple meeting of mouths at first, just cold lips against equally cold ones. Until Marcus started to move, their heads tilting opposite ways to accommodate, as a warm Slytherin tongue swiped across Oliver's bottom lip. It was granted entrance immediately, as those strong pale hands slipped under his shirt, one running up his back to rest between his shoulder blades, as the other settled on one of his nipples, brushing over the sensitive nub and tweaking it lightly. This earned a gasp from the blushing gryffindor, allowing more of the foreign tongue into his warm cavernous mouth.

Marcus slipped his hands down Oliver's back and over his pert ass, not once separating their lips. He walked them backwards into the lockers, lifting the Gryffindor's legs so they were hooked around his waist. He felt Oliver's hard erection pressing against his abs, straining against the cream leather of his Quidditch trousers.

"Unf, oh God! Flint!" Oliver groaned out, finally breaking away from his rival Quidditch captain to catch a breath.

"Don't call me that. My tongue was just in your mouth, at least call me Marcus." The older boy retorted, stepping back slightly from the Gryffindor, as Oliver's legs untangled from behind his back.

"S-sorry Marcus. Force of habit. Come here." Oliver replied, enveloping the Slytherin in a tight hug, nuzzling his rain-soaked face into the junction between Marcus' shoulder and neck. His eyes fell closed as the brunette's tongue lapped and sucked at his lightly protruding collar bone.

Oliver's hips rutted forwards unconsciously, earning another guttural moan from the Slytherin in front of him, they were both achingly hard and needed a release.

The Gryffindor Quidditch team had been training for the up and coming match between themselves and Ravenclaw. This was normal practice for Oliver and his team mates. What wasn't normal was the solitary Slytherin with olivey skin and dark hair watching Oliver as he flew around the rain-sodden pitch. The rain was tearing down, leaving all of the players freezing cold and soaked to the skin, thunder and lightning in the sky above them. They swarmed around, trying desperately to hear what their captain was saying.

And that was what had led up to the two boys ending up in a heated clinch in the changing rooms.

"Need you now, Marcus, please?" Oliver whined, kissing his way back up to the Slytherin's mouth. He could feel the other boy respond, pressing their entire bodies together, hip to shoulder to thigh.

"Only if you can admit something to me." Marcus murmured after his lips were released from the luxurious wet kiss. Oliver looked up at him with his golden brown eyes half lidded and his kiss-swollen lips parted. He nodded minutely, waiting for the question so they could resume their activities.

"You have to admit that me being a Slytherin doesn't bother you. That it won't ever stop you from doing anything with me. That it won't stop you from admitting how you feel about me to other people. That you aren't…ashamed…of who I am." Marcus replied coyly, feeling a flush rise up his pale cheeks. Oliver wanted to look into those grey eyes and resolutely admit that he didn't care what house the other boy was from. But his companion was looking down at the floor, embarrassed after showing a weakness.

The Gryffindor lifted the Marcus' chin with two tanned fingers, smiling genuinely at the other boy.

"Of course I don't care that you're a Slytherin, Marcus. It will never be a reason to stop this, or walk away from you. I'd like you whatever house you were in. How could I be ashamed of the person I'm in love with?" Oliver froze the moment the last part fell from his lips. He'd never said _that word_ to anyone before. None of the people he'd been with warranted such a response. What if Marcus rejected him now? Scared half to death by the emotions and meanings behind _that little word_?

"Good. Because I really didn't want the _person I love_ to be ashamed of me just because I happened to end up in a house full of future death eaters and evil people. It's like a curse being in Slytherin, I swear, every time I tell people which house I'm in they run like I've got the plague for God's sake! All it means-mmph"

Before Marcus could continue rambling about the evils of Slytherin Oliver had claimed his gorgeous lips in a fierce kiss.

"Sorry…can't wait any longer…need you now." Oliver panted out, pushing trembling hands under Marcus' heavy jumper and t-shirt, working them over his head whilst ghosting over raised nipples at the same time. Marcus just smirked his (somewhat evil) smirk as Oliver was so needy and dominant at the same time. _A Slytherin in the making if ever there was one_, he thought to himself. But before this thought had fully formed it melted into mush as he felt those deft tanned fingers (which were still freezing) slip into the back of his jeans and knead his ass, as a warm tongue found its way back into his willing mouth.

"f-fuck, Oliver!" he whispered against the pair of parted lips that were puffing out warm air onto his face as he worked Marcus' sodden jeans down over his hips and straining boxer shorts.

"No Marc, that's what you're supposed to be doing, if you could tempt your brain into coherent thought any time soon. I'm a bottom, I'm always a bottom. And I'm surprisingly fully dressed in contrast to you. Help me out here, please?" Oliver whispered next to the Slytherin's ear as he attempted to step out of his dark jeans that lay in a heap around his ankles. He felt the brunette's tongue flick out unintentionally over his ear cartilage and lost it a little, his legs turning to jelly.

"Uh, yeah right." Marcus asserted, immediately tugging at Oliver's red and gold Quidditch jumper as it hitched over his brunette head. A few minutes of gentle pulling and it was discarded, thrown to wherever Marcus' lust-addled brain saw fit to throw it. This needed to be quicker. Was it possible for a man to die of sexual repression? Hopefully not or they were both screwed.

Why did it happen to tip down with rain on the night the boys saw fit to rut out their building sexual tension? And why did their clothes have to be made of materials that seemed to soak up the rain with abandon, just to mock them and intensify everything by an extra 50%? Anyway enough thinking and more action (hopefully).

Marcus took a moment to admire Oliver's torso; a smattering of freckles over his strong shoulders, perfectly toned pectoral and abdominal muscles that reacted slightly to the lack of clothing, twitching and flexing as the Gryffindor reached down and started to unlace (who the fuck thought laces were a good idea for a fly?) his leather Quidditch trousers, obviously a little deterred by the frustration of the laces (Jesus god why?) and the lack of nakedness on his part.

Marcus peeled the garment off of his companion, and his jaw dropped as he noticed the other boy wasn't wearing any underwear. No fucking underwear! Who knew Oliver wood was such a kinky dude? Wearing no underwear under LEATHER trousers? Marcus thanked whatever deity he could for falling in love with Oliver, and for finding out his kinky side too. Leather and no underwear; he would have to remember that for future encounters with the Quidditch captain.

Oliver stepped out of the trousers his erection standing proudly against his body. Marcus was so mesmerised by its beauty (and length!) that he failed to notice the tanned boy moving back towards him and hooking his fingers under the waistband of his own boxer shorts. Then they were pushed down to reveal his own throbbing dick.

He watched as the Gryffindor kneeled before him, looking up at Marcus through golden-brown lust-hazed eyes, a hint of a smirk playing on his lips before he moved forward and licked Marcus' head tentatively. This action earned him a litany of jumbled sounds as the Slytherin's head fell backwards.

"God Oliver!…so…ah…so fucking good! Never knew you were so good at this…fuck!" Marcus breathed out, as Oliver licked and sucked at his shaft and head. His deft tongue swirled around and traced a vein on the underside of the Slytherin's member, causing his breath to hitch. He so wanted to fuck the Gryffindor's dirty sinful mouth, but restrained out of respect. To be getting sucked off by Oliver was a Godsend, and he really didn't want the treatment to stop, so there was no way he was going to fuck it up by pushing any of those boundaries. Not yet anyway.

He could feel himself coming closer to release, but as if Oliver had heard this unborn thought, he pulled his mouth away completely, an obscene pop letting the Slytherin know he had been released. He frowned and his knees buckled a little bit as he watched the Gryffindor stand gracefully, licking his lips as a rivulet of pre-come dribbled from the corner of those wickedly-talented lips.

He placed a salty kiss on Marcus' mouth before reclining gingerly on one of the benches a few feet away, holding the Slytherin chaser's wanton gaze as he did so.

Without a word Oliver made a 'come hither' gesture with a finger to the needy Marcus, and watched the Slytherin move towards him, to stand about a foot in front of him. Then the show began.

"Oliver what are you-

Marcus started to say, but before he could continue Oliver raised a hand to silence him.

"Ssh, just watch and I'll let you know when you can join in." Oliver replied in a husky whisper. Marcus thought he might come there and then if Oliver proceeded to talk to him in _that_ tone of voice.

All Marcus could do was nod as the Gryffindor, who he had always thought of as so innocent and vanilla, smirked playfully at him from his place on the bench.

The brunette raised a hand to his mouth, tracing the edge of his mouth with a fingertip before dipping said finger between those gorgeous lips and plundering his own mouth with it, lapping and sucking and coating it with saliva. He then did this with two other fingers, all the while stroking and teasing the head of his dick with the other hand, almost absentmindedly.

Then Oliver withdrew the fingers from his lips and moved so he was kneeling, placing the now-lubricated digits at his puckered and pulsing entrance. Marcus watched hungrily as he circled the tight ring of muscles, before pressing the first finger inside slowly. Then the second which he used to scissor and stretch the hole as Oliver winced in pain and groaned in pleasure. And finally he inserted the third finger, his face screwing up in genuine pain as he did so. Marcus was achingly hard by this point and renewed pre-come was dribbling over the tip of his cock.

He watched in absolute euphoric pleasure as the boy he'd been in love with for two years fucked himself (what looked like painfully) on his own fingers, and took a few wary steps forward. He wrapped shaking fingers around Oliver's thrusting and writhing wrist to stop him from impaling himself too hard. The brunette flushed a little as he met Marcus' gaze but he stopped his vigorous actions none-the-less.

"Baby, stop. You're just going to hurt yourself going at it so hard. Let me fix your pain, alright?" Marcus cooed, placing a chaste, loving kiss on Oliver's parted pink lips as he withdrew the hand from beneath him and fell lightly onto the bench so he was now in a sitting position with his tanned legs apart.

Marcus sank to his knees before the keeper and lifted his tired legs up, to reveal the puckered and now-stretched entrance that Oliver had been working open moments before. He placed light kisses down the Gryffindor's hard and weeping cock, before moving to his intended destination. He licked slowly over Oliver's perineum and slowly started to lap at the entrance, dipping the tip of his tongue inside. This earned him a strangled cry that Oliver bit his lip to try to contain. Apparently Oliver was a fan of being rimmed. So Marcus continued to soothe the stretched hole for a few more minutes, until the brunette was writing and his hips were unconsciously thrusting upwards. This was when Marcus took one of his own fingers and slid it delicately inside of Oliver, his destination being the boy's prostate, which he was sure was very sensitive by this point. Turned out it _was_ very sensitive, according to the wanton mewl he got in response to his gentle stroking.

"I-I'm ready n-now Marcus. P-p-please! I can't t-take this much longer!" Oliver whimpered, as Marcus pulled his finger out slowly. He nodded and positioned his cock at Oliver's entrance, looking up into the Gryffindor's face for permission. He got a tiny nod in response and pressed his hard length inside, waiting for a few moments for him to adjust. Apparently that wasn't what Oliver wanted; he wrapped his lithe legs around Marcus' hips, effectively drawing more and more of the Slytherin's cock inside of him.

When Marcus was fully sheathed within his tight heat Oliver wrapped his arms around the other boy's neck and kissed him hard on the mouth, plunging his tongue between willingly-parted lips. They moaned in unison as Marcus pulled back and pushed in further. As he thrust faster and faster, making sure that Oliver was always comfortable, he began to hit Oliver's very-responsive prostate with his well timed movements. These incidences lead to Oliver calling out Marcus' name over and over again, in desperate and strained tones. These tones of voice shot rockets of electric passion straight to Marcus' dick.

He sped up again, feeling both of them moving towards the best orgasms they had ever had, then he found himself flipped around, so he was the one sitting on the bench, while the incredibly flexible (thank Merlin!) Oliver riding his cock hard like a really dirty cowboy. Damn that was a beautiful thought; Oliver all dressed up in a cowboy outfit with boots and a hat and really tight leather trousers. Fuck, but really not the time to be thinking about that. Although he already knew Oliver had a kink for leather so maybe it was a possible fantasy they could play out sometime in the future. But like he said, not the time!

Marcus opened his eyes as he felt Oliver's tight ring of muscles tensing around him as his orgasm coiled in his stomach and come began to spurt from his aching dick. The combined feeling of Oliver's body clamping down around him and the warm semen dribbling down his chest sent Marcus over the edge too, coming deep inside of Oliver as he continued to ride him hard, milking him of it all.

They panted heavily, Marcus wrapping his arms around a sated Oliver as the Gryffindor rested his now heavy head on his shoulder. He felt the brunette smile against his shoulder, and lifted his chin to place a loving kiss on the other's mouth.

Moments passed by where neither of them spoke or moved, the only sound was that of their laboured breathing. Slowly they withdrew from their orgasm-induced hazes that had fallen over their minds and Oliver lifted himself off of Marcus' lap, wincing slightly as he did so. He scrambled around the floor picking up discarded clothes and replacing them rather haphazardly. When they were finally redressed they came back together, Oliver wrapping his arms around Marcus' neck and kissing him on the mouth, Marcus responded happily, pushing his tongue between those beautiful lips and a groan escaping the back of his throat.

"That was…just wow…amazing." Oliver breathed, running his hands over the back of Marcus' still-wet jumper as his breath ghosted over the Slytherin's earlobe and neck.

"Yeah… It really was. But we really should get back up to the castle. God knows what time it is!" Marcus said, chuckling lightly but not once moving away from the Gryffindor's warm and loving embrace.

"I love you Marcus…I'm glad that we _finally _did this. I thought it would never happen. Like a Slytherin like you could ever love a crazy Quidditch-obsessed lanky Scottish twat like me?" Oliver replied, entwining the fingers on both of their hands together. Marcus raised a dark eyebrow at him and nuzzled their noses together.

"And like you could ever love a Slytherin, troll-faced stupid-enough-to-have-to-retake-a-year douchebag like me? Right? Turns out we are in someone somewhere's good books, huh? I love you too." Marcus said, adding a little extra emotion into the last three words. He pulled away from Oliver just enough to allow them to walk hand in hand from the room. Oliver flicked the light switches off and locked the door.

They walked up through the grounds in silence; their hands remained joined all the way to the Slytherin common room. Marcus pulled Oliver's beautiful body against his as they stood there, just taking in the mind-blowing events that had occurred that evening.

They broke apart and just waited for a moment. Someone had to say something, make a move or walk away. Neither wanted to walk away from this. But they both feared rejection now that the sex line had been crossed. Was this to be over now? Or did it have potential to be the best form of inter-house relation building in the history of Hogwarts? Nothing like a good fuck between Quidditch rivals to draw out the tensions of hundreds of years. But it was more than that. More than just sex. It meant something to both of them. Years worth of waiting and lusting and cold showers and confusing dreams and watching Quidditch plays with more than vested interest. It was the accumulation of so much. They really didn't want it to be messed up by the choice they made at this point.

Marcus was the one who plucked up the courage first. He just thought that he would speak his mind and if it all fell to pieces at least he had tried.

"Stay with me tonight? Nothing has to happen; I think we are both quite tired out after what just went down out there. I just want you to be in my arms when I wake up. Please Ollie?" Marcus said, using the moniker he had heard others use while around the Gryffindor captain. He hoped it was okay for him to use.

The Gryffindor stared at him for a moment, his gaze seeming to soften with every word the Slytherin spoke. Before Marcus could blush or retreat into his self-conscious mind, Oliver short of threw himself into Marcus' arms and hugged him the tightest yet. With another breathtaking kiss he pulled back once more.

"You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to say something like that. Of course I'll stay with you tonight, and any other night you will have me Marcus. I love you so much!" Oliver squealed happily as Marcus whispered his echoed sentiments into his ear. They walked hand in hand into the Slytherin common room, ignoring the few confused glances they got, although Oliver did notice the way Terrence higgs and Adrian Pucey, who were lying on the sofa together, Terrence's head resting just beneath Adrian's chin, were looking between Marcus and himself with the most relieved and smug faces ever.

Oliver later discovered that it had been the famous Slytherin couple (Higgs and Pucey) that had suggested that Marcus make the trip down to the Quidditch pitch that night. He discreetly thanked them by buying up half of honeydukes sweet shop the next trip they made to Hogsmeade (Marcus had helped him pick out which sweets were his friends' favourites).

So Marcus and Oliver headed up to the Slytherin boy's dormitory, where they proceeded to strip down to their (still-sodden, from the rain) boxers and snuggled up in the green four poster bed with their arms wrapped tightly around the other. Two former Quidditch-rivals-turned-boyfriends were happy all thanks to the stringing out of years of sexual tension and confused feelings, culminating in an amazing night of passion.

Nights of such unbridled love and passion were repeated on a regular basis throughout their new relationship. And sometimes not at night, and sometimes they had sex in the gryffindor dormitory, or in broom closets or empty classrooms or the gryffindor changing rooms if they were feeling nostalgic or sentimental.

And whether or not Marcus and Oliver carried out any of those leather-loving cowboy-themed fantasies will be a secret that both boys take to the grave, unless they decided to divulge the dirty kinky details to any of their unsuspecting friends of course.

**So just a bit of Marcus/Oliver smutty and fluffy stuff for you**

**Also a mention of Terrence higgs/Adrian pucey…who are my second fave Quidditch related couple**


End file.
